Page 73 of Wild Card (Men of Action #4)

WILLOW

The baby kicks hard, and I try to hide my flinch, only to have Mark at my side.

“Willow?”

“I need to use the restroom.”

“Mmhmm, peeing on yourself would be bad form.” Jewls side-eyes me.

“I am not peeing on myself!” I whisper-hiss, embarrassed my father-in-law heard.

“Let’s go.” April and Bex take both my elbows and I panic.

“No, I’ll miss it!”

Wyatt saunters his way to the plate, swinging his bat the way Talon taught him. Talon and Chase stand in the dugout, clapping and calling out encouragement with the other young boys screaming along.

Ace, Ford, Major, and my dad stand at the fence, watching raptly.

Wyatt looks through all of them and my chest seizes. He didn’t just gain one uncle, he gained four. And right now, it’s written all over his little face—he wants to impress them.

He takes his time swinging the bat, squatting in stance.

I don’t know who it was that worked their magic, but Wyatt was asked to join a coach pitch team for the summer. This is supposed to be all friendly competitions to warm the boys up for fall ball.

You wouldn’t know it from the male presence baring down from the fence line.

There are no trophies, awards, or championships at play.

Just good old-fashioned fun.

Or, at least, that was the plan until Talon and Chase got involved.

My brother and husband are grooming a championship team and going for bragging rights.

Wyatt takes yet another practice swing and I grip my stomach. “I love that boy with all my heart, but he needs to hurry up and hit.”

As if he hears me, he glances my way and jerks his chin.

One of the many macho moves he’s picked up from his new mentors.

Finally, he’s ready, and as soon as the coach pitches the ball, Wyatt steps back, knowing the pitch wasn’t the right one.

On the second, he swings hard, connecting with the ball, resulting in rambunctious screams of the boys.

He makes it to first base with no problem and I’ve pushed my limit. This baby obviously knows the excitement happening and decides to roll.

I climb over the bleacher and shriek when strong hands lift me the rest of the way.

“What are you doing?” Talon places me on the ground and directs me to the restroom.

“Wondered how long you’d hold out.”

“You are timing my urination schedule?”

“Been watching you the last ten minutes.”

It is useless to respond because the man is one hundred percent in tune with my body and this pregnancy.

“I’m seriously considering buying you a straightjacket.”

“Hard to carry you around without use of my arms.”

I curve down my attitude, because my bladder wins out, rushing inside the bathroom.

When I’m done, I notice how clean the ladies’ room is compared to the last time we were at the fields. The dingy walls are painted, the cracked vinyl vanities replaced, the tile floors bleached and shining. There are summer-scented soaps at the sinks with stacks of softer paper towels.

This has Stacy Richards written all over it.

Talon’s waiting for me with a scowl. “Told you it’s not good to wait until the last minute.”

“You tell me a lot of things.”

“Because you are stubborn and don’t take care of yourself.”

I square off with him, ready to continue these never-ending conversations. “I know my body.”

“Princess, lose the sass.”

“There is no attitude.”

He cocks an eyebrow, his stunning eyes dancing with amusement. “You really want to do this here?”

My insides stir alive, knowing how this usually ends with me in some kind of state of undress and at least one orgasm. Today, we’re not in the privacy of the house where he can manhandle me. We’re at a public ballpark surrounded by kids.

I take a big step back and wag my finger at him. “Stay there. No more hauling me around.”

“I haven’t hauled you anywhere yet.”

“You lifted me off the bleachers. Which is dangerous for you with the extra weight I’m carrying.”

“You’re underweight, and your ass should have never been on the third row. I want you on the ground.”

“I can’t see as well.”

“Then I’ll arrange for a special viewing section.”

“You’re insane! Wyatt will be mortified if you single me out.”

“He won’t give a shit.”

This is true, Wyatt thinks everything Talon does is right in the world.

The baby kicks again, my hand reflexively covering my stomach. His eyes drop and, in a flash, he’s in my space, rubbing my rounded belly. “He’s active today?”

“More than usual. It’s probably all the excitement.”

“You need to rest before this afternoon.”

I roll my eyes. “We’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not like anyone will let me lift a finger.”

“As it should be.”

“You do realize women have been having babies forever and maintained an active lifestyle. I think I can handle decorating for a six-year-old’s birthday party.”

“Those women weren’t having my baby. And they may not have had fifteen other people willing to decorate. You made the cake, that’s enough.”

“He’s my nephew; he deserved his favorite cake.”

“I didn’t bitch about it.”

“No, you pouted.”

He scowls, pressing on my stomach. “Don’t listen to that shit. Men don’t pout.”

“Are you talking to me or the baby?”

“Right now, the baby. When we get home, I’ll explain to you in detail how?—”

A whistle cuts through the air and Ford motions to the dugout.

“We’re missing the game because you’re being an overprotective idiot.”

“You have to pee, don’t wait.”

“Do you have to be sooooooo observant?”

He ignores me, steering me past the bleachers to a waiting chair with a bird’s eye view of the field. April, Bex, Rowan, Harley, and Jewls are all seated in similar outdoor camping chairs, gabbing away.

“You didn’t.”

“Bleachers are dangerous. You have your own section.” He kisses me quick but hard before jogging back to the team.

He receives attention from every woman in the vicinity and I can’t blame them.

My husband is gorgeous.

Another boy hits a line drive, giving Wyatt the opportunity to race to home plate. We all go wild, Bex screaming the loudest.

I dance in a circle, cheering until a soft hand clutches my arm.

“Maybe you should sit.” April’s gaze travels sideways.

I grumble, easing into the chair. “Not sure how to handle four more months of this.”

“Ditto, sister,” Rowan commiserates, her husband being equally as maddening.

“Maybe you’ll go early,” Harley suggests with a sly smile.

Mom comes running up, completely frazzled. “Did I miss anything?”

“Wyatt’s on fire, the team is kicking ass, and these six-year-olds are being groomed for the Cy Young award.” Jewls adjusts her sunglasses. “Otherwise, it’s a glorious summer morning at the ballpark.”

“The Cy Young award is for pitchers,” Bex corrects her.

“Well, whatever little ballplayers get.”

“Where have you been?” I ask Mom.

“Rosie and I were at the Whitmans’ decorating.” She glances around nervously and my senses kick in. Grandma said she and Grandpa had plans this morning, which is why they aren’t here.

“That wasn’t necessary. We had it covered.”

She avoids my statement, picking at her shorts.

“Did Talon rope you into decorating in order to keep me from helping?”

“No!” she’s too quick to answer.

April picks up on the anxious spirit and gives a little clap. “Who’s up for shopping tomorrow? Now that we know it’s a boy, we can get the nursery ordered.”

Talon warned me this was coming. April and Mark were ecstatic to find out the sex and April went into full planning mode. She insisted on gifting the nursery furniture. If she wanted to buy her first grandchild’s furniture, who was I to steal her joy?

“That sounds lovely, April.”

She beams. “I’m glad you found out the sex. Even though furniture is typically gender neutral, you can consider themes now.”

I bite my lip, but no one else does as a round of cackles echoes enough for others to peer our way.

“You didn’t want to know?” April’s beam lessens and I can’t let her happiness slide.

“I didn’t have a choice. Talon was on the verge of losing his sanity.”

“Oh?”

“The sonographer made a small slip of the tongue and belted out ‘she’ at our appointment. Talon took the pronoun to the farthest level. He contacted our contractor and had quotes sent over for a fence. Not just any fence; he wanted to barricade our entire property.”

“He didn’t.”

“Then he went to Robbie and Finn directly since they both have daughters. When he came home, he immediately declared our daughter was attending an all-girls school.”

“A little overboard.”

I nod, laughing outright at the panic he held on to for a full day. “The man can chase the thrill of walking into hostile situations every day. But the thought of a baby girl unnerved him.”

“You know he would have gotten used to the idea, right?”

“He did, it didn’t take too long and he was ready to be a girl dad. This included martial arts and artillery training.”

“Oh my,” she covers her mouth.

“I had to be sure. The doctor ran all the tests and it was very obviously a boy.”

“How’d he take that news? He didn’t tell his dad and me any of this.”

“He saw the ultrasound picture and knew immediately. Then he canceled the eight-foot atrocity he planned around the house.”

“What happens if you ever have a girl?”

“He says it’s different because of the big brother aspect.”

“My son needs a slap upside the head.”

“Can you reserve that slap for my husband?” Rowan asks. “We’ve known this is a boy and Ford keeps insisting on proof every visit.”

“Too bad there isn’t one little girl in the mix.” Mom sighs wispily, gazing at me with adoration. “Girls are fun.”

This happens a lot lately, especially since my most perfect and marvelous wedding that went off without a hitch. Cruz was phenomenal in keeping things on track, but Mom was the architect behind the opulence and glam.

Stacy Richards knows how to get things done and no one wants to disappoint her.

She was making my day special but at the same time repairing the last shredded thread of betrayal.

Chase and Wyatt welcomed her back into their lives fully, my grandparents mended the fences, and Dad had the proof he needed that her priorities were back on track.

The wedding was over, but her devout attention was stronger than ever. She was going overboard making up for the year of her discretions.

Once a week, she insists on making us dinner, feeding all of our crew. We do lunches often, spa appointments, and shopping trips.

Good God, I forgot how much my mom likes to shop. And now with a new house and a baby, it’s become her fixation.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a small crowd approaching.

Bex’s parents, Lucas, and my grandparents duck behind the far side of the dugout.

My heart speeds so fast I have to catch my breath.

Oh my God!

Mom places her hand on my shoulder, her eyes already misty.

I scramble to get my phone out of my pocket, knowing this will be a monumental occasion. A text comes through from Talon.

Calm it, Princess.

I immediately respond.

You know?

Of course he knows…

Yeah, and so will everyone else if you and Stacy don’t reel it in.

Reel it in? I’m not doing anything.

Then I realize my hands are shaking and Mom is fidgety.

We’re the worst.

Slowly, I stand, getting in place to video.

A few minutes later, the game ends, and after the players high-five, Chase approaches the mound, Wyatt at his side.

Bex’s cheers slow as she watches in confusion.

Usually, Wyatt makes a beeline to her after a game.

“Rebecca!” Chase calls and the crowd goes quiet.

She tips her head.

“Can you join us out here?”

Talon opens the player gate and she goes still.

I forego my mission to record this moment and prod her forward. She’s trembling from head to toe, and when Chase hits his knee with Wyatt mimicking his actions, she lets out a cry.

He pops open a velvet box and crooks a finger. She takes off running, him barely getting to his feet before she launches herself into his arms. He whispers something in her ear and her head nods as her small sobs sound.

My own tears threaten, but I will them away, not wanting to miss a thing.

A movement at the edge of the parking lot catches my attention. Rylee stands next to the sidewalk, swiping at her face. We momentarily lock eyes before she dips into her car.

In that split-second, there’s a glimpse of devastation so deep it rocks me to my core.

A hand comes around my waist, caressing my stomach. “Want me to have her removed?”

I glance up at Talon, shaking my head. “Chase is sharing one of the biggest moments of his life with a bunch of strangers. She’s no different.”

“You ready for that nap?”

“I’m ready to throttle your neck for keeping yet another secret from me.”

“You got jittery as a jackrabbit in the two minutes before you found out. Really think you could have kept this to yourself?”

His arrogant grin proves he has a point.

“But you want to throttle something, let’s take this home and you can throttle my cock.”

My face heats and I peer around to make sure no one overheard. “No, no sex for you the rest of the weekend.”

If possible, his grin grows wider. “Like to see you try that.”

My stomach flutters at the intention in his gaze, knowing I can’t ever hold out for long.

Can anyone blame me?

“Go say your congratulations and make it quick. Our afternoon of rowdy kids and cake turned into another fucking celebration with a shitload of people. If I’m expected to remain civil while you prance your sexy ass around in a bathing suit all afternoon, I’ll need some time to prepare.”

“First off, I’m nowhere near sexy in a bathing suit. Secondly, preparing yourself better not mean marking me.”

There’s a flicker in his gaze that tells me that’s exactly his plan.

“Princess, talk to your brother and hug your best friend. You have five minutes.” His tongue skims across my lips and desire races through my system.

The promise of what’s to come clearly outweighs my ability to protest. Why deny it?

“You know, two of my favorite people are getting married. Bex is officially becoming a part of my family, and my nephew is getting a mom who loves him like her own. Even your barbaric ways can’t dim my joy. I feel like celebrating .”

In a flash, I’m swept off my feet and he’s stalking to his truck. A few people call to us, but I hardly hear them over my laughter.

There will be plenty of time for congratulations later.